


When No One's Listening

by yourebrilliant



Series: Pyjama Verse [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Information on Peter Rabbit, rabbits, brown bears, Winnie-the-Pooh, and "love" from Wikipedia.  What would we do without it ;D</p></blockquote>





	When No One's Listening

It is the feeling of intense heat that wakes him. Everything else; the gunshots, the yelling of his army mates, the breath coming quickly in his chest as he runs between fallen soldiers trying to save as many lives as possible, seems so real. But, London is in the grip of an unusually cold winter and his brain rebels against the remembrance of intense heat sending him, gasping, into consciousness.

As he lies there, waiting for his heart to stop pounding, he becomes aware of someone moving about the room, opening a window and placing linens beside his bed. ‘Get up,’ Sherlock says, his low, smooth voice barely disturbing the silence.

‘What?’

‘Get up,’ Sherlock repeats. ‘Nightmares generally cause the body to release adrenaline which causes perspiration. You need to walk off the adrenaline and change the linens in your bed or you will not return to sleep.’

John sighs. ‘Sherlock,’ he pauses and Sherlock flicks on the bedside lamp so John can see the irritation in his expression.

‘John, have you not expressed on many occasions the opinion that I have a higher intelligence quotient than yourself?’

‘Well, yes,’ John says, ‘but-’

‘Then would it not be logical for you to follow my instructions?’

John sighs again. ‘Okay,’ he says, throwing back the sweat soaked duvet and climbing out of bed.

‘Oh, and you’ll need to change,’ Sherlock says, handing John a pair of elegant pyjamas in a deep navy blue. ‘Your other night clothes are in the laundry,’ Sherlock comments, when John looks at him.

By the time John has made his way to the bathroom, peeled off his pyjamas, pulled on Sherlock’s light, soft, infinitely too long pair, and rolled the legs and sleeves up to fit, Sherlock has finished stripping the bed and is putting new linens on.

‘Take the other side of the sheet,’ Sherlock says, without looking round.  
John crosses the room to help Sherlock, neither of them speaking as they replace the sheet, duvet, and pillow cases. Without a word, Sherlock then gathers up the sweat soaked linens and sweeps out of the room.

John watches him leave with a pensive expression on his face, a suspicion forming in his mind. Keeping an eye out for Sherlock, he crosses to his desk and turns on his laptop.

 

‘Gonna watch me sleep, again?’ John asks, already in his bed when Sherlock returns.

Sherlock refuses to rise to the bait, merely favouring John with a withering expression as he settles himself on the other side of the bed. ‘Given that you have emphatically rejected the concept of my singing,’ Sherlock says, his tone scathing, ‘I have ruled that out as a soporiphic. However, I have observed that my speaking voice can have a calming effect.’

‘So, you’re going to talk me to sleep?’ John asks, watching Sherlock as he arranges his dressing gown and pyjama trousers more comfortably around his long legs.

‘Crudely put, but an accurate summation,’ Sherlock concedes. ‘You will need to extinguish your light,’ he adds.

Shaking his head gently, John reaches out and flicks off the lamp. ‘On you go, then.’

Sherlock pauses, steepling his long fingers beneath his chin. ‘I have been considering which topic would be most likely to induce sleep,’ he begins. ‘Clearly I could not discuss matters pertaining to your previous occupation as that would raise traumatic memories, which would be counterproductive to the task. I also discounted topics related to your _current_ occupation as those would likely generate interest, causing your mind to work when it should be resting. Thus, I have decided that the best topic is one which has no relation to your past or present and in which you have shown no previous interest. I have also been reviewing the common traits of popular “bedtime” stories which could be adapted for adult subjects.’ He pauses. ‘Peter Rabbit, of the popular work by Beatrix Potter, is described as a “cottontail” rabbit, a presumably inaccurate definition as the cottontail rabbit, genus _Sylvilagus_ is commonly found in North America, Central America, and northern and central South America and the Peter Rabbit stories are set in the Lake District in England.’ Unnoticed by Sherlock, John smiles to himself and lets his eyes drift closed. ‘Since the rabbits in the books are depicted as living in warrens, they are most likely of the genus _Oryctolagus cuniculus_ , commonly referred to as the European Rabbit or Common Rabbit...’

 

The next morning, John wakes to find Sherlock gone, likely experimenting on something or other. Sliding out of bed, John creeps to the door and listens for sounds of Sherlock moving around outside. When he can hear nothing, he moves over to his desk and sits down in front of his laptop. He has noticed Sherlock acting particularly oddly recently, even for him. He has repeatedly looked up to find Sherlock watching him with a look of confusion on his face, as if John was a case he couldn’t solve, and two days ago, Sherlock had taken his pulse as soon as John walked into the living room. Wondering if Sherlock would explain himself if he thought John was asleep, John had set his laptop up to record. Now, he stops the programme and sets it to playing again. Scrolling through the first forty minutes, on the assumption that Sherlock would say nothing incriminating until after John had achieved REM sleep, John presses play.

... _possibly the character is intended to be Ursus arctos beringianus, which has a lighter shading than the traditional “brown bear”._ There is a long pause and Sherlock heaves a deep sigh. _From the flickering under your eyelids, I believe it is safe to conclude that you are in REM sleep. I have considered whether you would be capable of recalling information acquired during this period, but my research indicates that it would require effort on your part, and I have observed no indication that you would have enough suspicion of my behaviour recently to do so._ He pauses again, as though steeling himself to make his next comments. _There are three stages described under the aggravatingly ambiguous tem “love”; lust, attraction, and attachment. Despite my earlier statements, I_ am _capable of all three, although I have never had a high libido and I have trained myself to detach from the social concepts of “attractive” and “unattractive” except where these definitions would constitute a possible motivation for murder. I have very few attachments. Too much of my experience has been that attachments lead to emotional turmoil and mental disorder. This is counterproductive to my work. I have noticed, however, that I have recently been displaying the physical signs of what can inaccurately be termed “love”. Comparisons between previous tests have indicated an increased level of dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin in my system. I have observed an increase in my heart rate in situations without physical activity or danger to affect my body, and a sense of deep personal attachment for one person._

Suddenly a pale arm descends over John’s shoulder and pauses the record. ‘Very cunning, Doctor Watson,’ Sherlock comments, his tone approving rather than embarrassed.

John leans back in his chair. ‘Who?’ he asks quietly.

‘Mm?’ Sherlock moves away from the desk, his back to John as he crosses the room.

‘Who have you formed a deep personal attachment to?’

Sherlock is smiling slightly as he looks back at John. ‘Your deductive reasoning is better than that,’ he comments. ‘Affecting ignorance to force me to express information you already possess is a waste of both our time.’ He drops onto the end of John’s bed, watching him closely.

John laughs nervously. ‘Believe it or not, not everyone is as confident in their deductions as you are.’

‘And what are your deductions?’ Sherlock asks, sounding distant, as though they are discussing a case, but there is something in his eyes, as he looks at John.

John clears his throat. ‘Deep personal attachment that you’ve only noticed recently, so someone new in your life. Any one you’ve known for a long time and you would have noticed the changes before now. You’re uncomfortable talking to me about it, which is why you waited until I was asleep, but you felt the need to tell me even though I wouldn’t hear you, which means...’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s...me? You’re in love with me?’ John watches Sherlock, slightly breathless as he waits for his deductions to be confirmed.

‘Well done, John,’ Sherlock says quietly. ‘Perfectly sound analysis.’

They watch each other for a moment, Sherlock waiting to see what John will say, John trying to decide what that will be.

‘Why?’ he says, in the end.

Sherlock raises one eyebrow. ‘I am given to understand that logic does not generally enter into this.’

‘Come on, Sherlock,’ John says impatiently, ‘you must have some idea.’

Sherlock sighs. ‘Because you’re not an idiot, most of the time,’ he adds, and John smiles slightly. ‘Because you see beyond the surface. Beyond the freak,’ he adds quietly.

John gets up and crosses the room to stand in front of Sherlock, his eyes almost level with Sherlock’s now. ‘You are not a freak,’ he says quietly, reaching out tentatively to brush one soft black curl from Sherlock’s eye. He smiles. ‘I have a deep personal attachment to you too, by the way,’ he comments softly. ‘What do you want to do about it?’

Sherlock considers John’s question, watching him intently. ‘Love is a common and powerful motivator,’ he comments quietly. ‘It would be remiss of me to attempt to understand it without first-hand experience.’

John laughs softly and Sherlock smiles at his response. ‘Are you going to make notes about this?’ John asks.

‘Obviously,’ Sherlock retorts. ‘What kind of scientist would I be otherwise?’

John leans forward, cupping Sherlock’s cheek with one hand. ‘Sherlock,’ he whispers, inches from Sherlock’s lips.

‘Yes?’

‘You can stop making up reasons to sleep with me now,’ he says, and closes the gap.

**Author's Note:**

> Information on Peter Rabbit, rabbits, brown bears, Winnie-the-Pooh, and "love" from Wikipedia. What would we do without it ;D


End file.
